


Mundane

by mansikka



Series: Too Far [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 10:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6514354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There could have been about a hundred different ways that it could have happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mundane

**Author's Note:**

> So this is where we are with this one.
> 
> This started out as a standalone forever ago as Too Far, then Five Minutes happened, and then Black got thought about but not padded out, tucked away in my 'ongoing fic' folder on my desktop. And then I had lovely comments that served as a nudge, and all the other fics happened as a result, to make it into this odd little series of sorts. This fic seemed a good a place as any to leave it for now, even if strictly speaking there's not really any true resolution.
> 
> However.
> 
> There is more writing ongoing for this one as we speak. 
> 
> I can't tell if it's going to be an easy one where the words flow out and essentially write themselves (it hasn't proved that way so far), whether what's being written will end up as another load of separate pieces, or if it's going to be combined into one long fic to cover everything I want to say about this particular story. 
> 
> I already know how I intend to end it, and have a page of notes on things I want to see happen, so I suppose that's a good thing, right? I just don't know when, or how they'll get posted.
> 
> To everyone who's commented on these throughout, thank you: I know I always tell you that I write these for myself, and that's still true – but knowing you enjoy them as well puts a smirk on my face every single time :)
> 
> x

There could have been about a hundred different ways that it could have happened.

The morning they'd woken up in an unfamiliar bed with the mouthwatering smell of bacon wafting up at them, in the minutes before Sam yelled at them to get their asses downstairs or miss out on breakfast.

The following morning when Cas had insisted Dean help him shave, because his beard was itching him until the point of distraction, and he still wasn't sure he'd have either the energy to finish a full shave by himself, or the steadiness of hand to wield a razor. The closeness of them pressed up against one another in the bathroom all alone, with nothing but steam between them as Dean worked, surely was invitation enough.

The evening after that, when Cas had quietly thanked Dean for dinner, steadied himself against the kitchen sink and slowly helped with the dishes, before turning around, half-exhausted, to lean back against the kitchen counter with a small smile of triumph dancing across his lips. It could have been then, when Dean took in the way one of Cas' (his) shirt sleeves had fallen down mid-forearm so that its cuff was soaked through, and found himself thinking just how very cute Cas was, then blushed at himself for it.

It could have been any one of those.

But it wasn't.

The first time that they kissed, and by that, Dean meant  _ shared _ a kiss; not one of the literally-stolen ones they'd had before that, was triggered by the most mundane of things.

Dean had been folding laundry, Cas had reached out to help, and in doing so, had hit his elbow with a loud, resounding whack.

Cas cried out in mournful surprise, with Dean spinning to him in an instant in fear, and finding him clutching his elbow against his chest, looking down at it forlornly. Dean forced back the smile that threatened to erupt, and instead reached out towards him as though to cradle the injury in his hands.

“It's your funny bone, Cas,” he told him gently, as Cas began squeezing his fingers along his arm and down his hand with a definite pout to his lips.

“Humerus,” Cas said absently to himself, letting out a sigh that spoke volumes of disappointment at the nickname.

“Yeah, I know,” Dean sympathised, “Nothing funny about it.”

“It is numb,” Cas mumbled, and Dean ran soothing fingers over where Cas was tracing, shifting them until they were face to face.

“Yeah, it does that sometimes,” Dean agreed, stroking upwards until he could skim a circle around Cas' elbow.

Cas' eyes were fixed on Dean's hand, and either consciously or unconsciously, he stepped a little closer to Dean, until Dean's gentle grip loosened from his elbow and ran lightly up his arm to his shoulder.

“Okay now?” Dean asked softly, smiling as Cas nodded with his eyes still firmly fixed on the back of Dean's hand. Cas' gaze drifted slowly until it was on Dean's face.

Dean swallowed awkwardly as Cas continued staring at him, letting his own eyes glance all over Cas' face, before meeting Cas' eyes again.

Dean argued with himself, fighting back what he instinctively wanted to do, but was unable to force either his eyes, or thoughts away. He could see something in Cas' expression and didn't really know what to do with it, but decided on honesty and whatever came of it.

“It's probably  _ beyond _ inappropriate to be telling you this, Cas, but  _ god _ do I wanna kiss you right now. I mean I won't,” he added hastily, anticipating Cas' reaction. “But. I do,”

Cas' eyes dropped again to Dean's lips as he licked his own. “I understand. I cannot pretend that I do not feel the same way.”

Dean nodded, giving his usual exterior of calm that was wildly opposite to the way he was feeling inside, as he lightly rested his hands on Cas' hips. “Probably way too soon,” he mumbled, his own eyes dropping of their own accord.

“Probably,” Cas echoed, shifting a little closer until his chest was bumping against Dean's.

“And we've got... we've probably got a whole lot more to talk about,” Dean added, his voice dropping lower and to little more than a whisper.

“We do,” Cas' eyes rested firmly on Dean's lips, and Dean was helpless.

Dean found himself running his fingers up Cas' sides, feeling him shiver under his fingertips, before gently cupping Cas' face in his hands, and leaning down the short distance it took to kiss him.

Dean let out a slow moan of relief as he felt Cas willingly mould his lips against his own. Cas' hands raised up to rest on Dean's back just under his shoulder blades as he eagerly leaned into the kiss, and the only thought Dean allowed himself besides variations of the word  _ finally _ , was just how well they seemed to fit together.

For every movement of his own lips, Cas moved just as readily, answering every dip, angle, and raise of his jaw with a mirroring one of his own. If Dean pulled back slightly, Cas pressed forward, and apart from parting for an occasional gasp of much-needed air, they remained wrapped up in each other, with no interest in how much time was passing.

When they did eventually pull back from one another, it was only because Dean could feel Cas' energy dwindling away. He pressed a kiss against Cas' temple, gathering him up in his arms as close as he could, sighing out in utter contentment as he felt Cas loop his arms around his waist and nuzzle into his neck.

“Guess there's no point telling you how long I've been waiting to do that, huh?” Dean mumbled into Cas' hair, following it up with a kiss there too.

Cas mumbled wordlessly against him, a rumbling sound that hit Dean's collarbone and sent shivers shooting through him so that he had to hold on that little bit tighter.

“Listen,” Dean said then, suddenly shifting until he was cupping Cas' face again and staring down at him in earnest. “I know we've still got... tonnes... to work through here. This... this doesn't wipe the slate clean for all I've done. I get that.”

“But?” Cas prompted, his face breaking into a tired smile that had Dean sagging himself a little in relief at seeing it.

“But,” Dean echoed, ducking again to press another kiss on him, then smiling himself, “while we're working through that stuff. There's nothing stopping us doing this again. Right?”

Dean pulled back then, waiting as patiently as was possible with his heart racing for Cas' response.

“I think that is... more than acceptable, Dean,” Cas told him then, angling his head up to brush his lips against Dean's as they curved up into another smile.

  
  
  



End file.
